


One step too far.

by Coloured_Rainbow



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Iron Man - Freeform, Spider-Man - Freeform, come here for sadness, death my dude, this is not going to be happy in any way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coloured_Rainbow/pseuds/Coloured_Rainbow
Summary: Peter couldn’t find the energy to move quickly enough as the Vulture and his torn wings came rushing in his direction. He haphazardly attempted to jump out of the way, but not before a sharp, thick blade of shrapnel pierced through his abdomen in result of the Vulture erupting into a fiery explosion.--In which Peter's fight with the Vulture took a much darker turn.





	One step too far.

**Author's Note:**

> ,,,not happy.
> 
> This is gonna be a short one, so hopefully I f i n i sh it

Peter cried out as the cargo plane tilted forward, evidently bound the crash into the ground within the next few seconds. He held on for dear life--not much else could he do, going that fast without his suit--praying for a safe landing. He closed his eyes and braced for impact, but nothing he told himself prepared him for the when the plane’s nose met the sand below. The metal death trap collided with the earth and shattered into a burst of flames and debris, sending scalding hot shrapnel in every direction. Before Peter could process the impact, he was already flying forward through the air. He let out another shout, but it was cut off as his body slammed into the ground. He bounced back off the sand, his body twisting as he traveled hundreds of feet doing painful summersaults, finally coming to a horrific stop as he slid against the ground.

Luckily, with his spider-like endurance, he had enough energy to not pass out, but the beach around him fell scarily silent behind the ringing in his ears. He couldn’t hear the fire roar or the ship groan as it came to a halt even as he slowly peeled his hand-made mask off of his face. He gulped in a desperate breath, rolling onto his side and sucking in air to keep himself from heaving up acid from his empty stomach. Shakily, he pushed himself off of the ground and haphazardly stood up, stumbling forward. Before he could take even three steps, all of his senses rushed back to him as the Vulture-- _Liz’s dad_ \--flew towards him and knocked him down again.

Peter sucked in a few panicked breaths and watched the Vulture as he struggled to lift his wings back up, looking like that attack hurt him as well. With trouble, he was able to face Peter and flash him an unseen smile under his night vision goggles and face mask. “Hey, Pedro,” he rasped. Peter allowed himself to widen his eyes and brace himself as the Vulture took flight yet again and missed Peter by a mere few inches, flying right over him as he ducked to the floor. The Vulture circled overhead and Peter snapped a few useless webs in his direction; not only was he running out of web fluid, but it was becoming too difficult a task to simply lift his arms to aim. Eventually, after Peter tired himself out, the Vulture dove back down and picked the kid up by his hood. Peter thrashed and let a helpless cry escape his lips, but fell silent when he was tossed back down on the floor.

Over and over, the Vulture punched and kicked and threw him around and he could do nothing more than take it. Peter was stronger than any normal kid, but he was still only 15 years old and there was so much his body could take. Finally, the Vulture threw him to the ground and left him there, smiling off at the one cargo box still left intact just a few feet in front of him.

“Bingo,” he laughed, his metallic wings wrapping around him defensively as he stepped over the Spider-man’s body. Just as he took flight, Peter found it in him to level himself onto his feet. As the Vulture grabbed onto the cargo box and attempted to lift it, Peter watched as blue sparks and electricity flew from the wings’ sputtering engines.

“His wings are gonna blow up,” he whispered to himself. “No stop!” He stepped forward, finding the strength to lift his arm and shoot a web onto one of the wings. The Vulture grunted in frustration and boosted the engines more, but Peter managed to tug on his web and keep him from going too far. 

“It’s time to go home, Peter!” The Vulture boomed, lifting his goggles to reveal his face.

“I’m trying to save you!” He shrieked, unable to help the painful crack to his voice. “Please,” another tug, “come down!” When the Vulture didn’t reply, Peter planted his feet to the ground and put every last ounce of energy he had into one last pull. The web tilted the Vulture’s wings enough off balance that it sent him barreling to the side and back towards the sand, along with the last cargo box. Just before they hit the ground, the Vulture switched the direction of his engines in an attempt to keep himself upright, instead landing much closer to Peter than anticipated. The boy couldn’t find the energy to move quickly enough as the Vulture and his torn wings came rushing in his direction. He haphazardly attempted to jump out of the way, but not before a sharp, thick blade of shrapnel pierced through his abdomen in result of the Vulture erupting into a fiery explosion.

Peter was silent at first as he fell to the floor, his body numb. The blood rushed to his ears and made his vision go black. 

_What happened…? What’s going on?_

There were what seemed like minutes of darkness and silence before his brain started filtering through memories. It thought back to Aunt May still waiting for him at home; Tony Stark who tried to warn him to stay away, even took away his suit in an effort to protect him; Liz, and how he thought he just killed her father; Michelle and Ned and the rest of the club and how they needed him for future competitions.

Was he dying? He couldn’t die. Not now. 

All at once, everything came rushing back to him in the form of a blood curdling scream; He was suddenly very aware of the piece of metal that had impaled him, keeping him pinned to the ground. It was so thick that Peter couldn’t even wrap his fists around it, not that he had the strength to try. He convulsed with sobs, his body violently shaking as pain rippled through his body. 

“Help!” He shrieked, tears sliding down the sides of his face. “Help! P-Please…” his words died somewhere in his dry throat as his small body slackened. “I d-don’t wanna di-ie…” He whispered. “Please… M-Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry… I-I should’ve listened…” Sucking in one last shaky breath, he closed his eyes and felt as the pain once again drained from his body. 

Peter wondered to himself if the Vulture had made it through the crash. He thought that it might be okay if he at least saved Liz’s dad.

He didn’t think anything after that.

\--------------------------------

Tony Stark took in a deep breath, letting out an equally heavy sigh as his private jet finally came to a landing. He had been attending to some really important business, but Happy insisted that he come home now. At first, he’d been annoyed. Happy knew that he had a lot of stuff to deal with right now, but Tony couldn’t help but start to worry at Happy’s soft, cracking voice; he was extra polite and sympathetic, calling him Tony rather than Stark. So, as the jet came to a stop and the doors opened, he could feel the slow, familiar crawl of anxiety in his throat. 

Pushing it aside and hoping this was all a big ruse to surprise him with something exciting, Tony pushed himself up out of his seat and walked off of the jet, onto the runway. He knocked down his sunglass from his forehead onto his eyes, surprised to see Happy being the only one to greet him.

“Hey, see you’re living up to the name,” Tony quipped, raising an eyebrow at Happy’s frown. “What’s up? You said you wanted to talk about something, so you want to get lunch? I’m starved. Anything sounds better than stale jet food.” Tony cleared his throat when Happy remained silent, his eyes glued to the floor. “You, uh, could’ve just called. But you didn’t. You had me fly out from states away, so… so it’s something important, right? What, did I finally win that Nobel Peace Prize?”

Happy swallowed. “...This is serious, Tony.” Stark shut his mouth immediately, his face falling from a nervous smirk into a concerned frown. “I… I honestly don’t know how to tell you. I-I was going to call, but I figured you rather me tell you face to face. I’m just glad you didn’t hear about it through the news--we were able to keep in on the downlow, at least for now, at least until you heard the whole story and decided what to--”

“You’re rambling,” Tony breathed, his heartbeat slowly taking over his ability to hear. “News? What would be on the news, what happened?”

Happy’s face contorted into an expression that Tony didn’t come to like. “I’m sorry. It’s-It’s hard. I never know-know how you’re going to handle things.”

“Happy, you’re freaking me out a little,” he let out a dry chuckle. “C’mon, please, just tell me.”

“...The kid was right.” When Tony merely gave him a confused look, he continued. “Someone was tryin’ to sabotage the cargo load we were shipping: goes by ‘The Vulture.’ We, uh… he was caught trying to steal some important technology that he could’ve used to do some… some real bad stuff. But uh… but the ship went down.”

Tony sighed, relaxed. “Jeez, you’d think I’d be that upset over a lost ship? Sure, it’s a few hundred thousand dollars lost, but we can make more. And as for the kid, well,” he sighed, “I guess maybe I should’ve trusted Peter a bit more. I’m sure I can make it up to him with a new suit.” Tony smiled conclusively to let Happy know it wasn’t a big deal, but he only looked hurt now. “What, what’s wrong? It’s fine, Happy.”

“Th-That’s the problem,” Happy choked out, glancing to the side and wiping his eye. “The kid was right. He saved us a hell of a lot of trouble from that slimy fucken bastard.”

“I know, he didn’t even have a suit,” Tony said quickly, fighting back the anxiety knotting up in his gut. “I’m proud of him, too.”

“H-He…” Happy let out a single, fast sob, but just as quickly recomposed himself. “Peter. It’s Peter.”

“Happy,” Tony hissed. “Tell me.”

“Tony--”

“I swear to god, Happy!” Tony’s voice suddenly rose to a shriek, making Happy flinch. “...H-Happy, please tell me that he’s okay.”

There was a long, pregnant pause. “...He didn’t make it.”

When Stark didn’t respond, Happy finally looked up at him. There was a few moment’s where Tony could do nothing but stare ahead and go over Happy’s words--

_He didn’t make it he didn’t make it he didn’t make it he didn’t make it he didn’t--_

Tony sucked in a sudden, harsh, desperate breath. 

_Peter is dead._

Clenching at his chest, Tony was helpless as his legs gave out from underneath him, sending his limp body slamming into the runway’s concrete. He could hear faint, muffled shouts and the feeling of being carted off, but it wasn’t long before everything went black.


End file.
